Gamma Sue got to take care of Addie, 29 months, and Gunnar, 6 months, three times for a total of nine hours in the last two months.  Funny, it is, that I know exactly the months, hours, and days.  The truth is I also know the minutes, but who's counting? 
Each of the three events began as an "obernight" at their house with Gamma Sue's night-bag a particular object of interest for Miss Adeline.  Not unlike the memorable night bag of my own grandmother, which included a solution for false teeth and rollers for her hair, my obernight bag includes a toothbrush and a curling iron for my hair … as well as a pack of blue gum, Addie's favorite color.
My time to babysit begins the next day.  The sun is up and I'm sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, looking backwards out the picture window at the blooming irises and peonies, a half full rain gauge, crisp variegated hostas, and huge evergreen trees planted in a row long ago by people with unfamiliar names and faces.
It is peaceful in the country, with wide open spaces.  It is fresh.  Makes you want to take deep breaths.  It's quiet, and you incline your ears to hear it.  It is still, except for the fat robin bobbing in the lawn.  The long chimes that dangle in their clumped birch trees are silent. 
Could I ever live in the country again?  Perhaps not, having lived away from the country for some 40 years now.  I think I'd miss the well traveled highways and byways of life, but I do recognize the gift that the country is to my daughter as a young wife and mother. 
"Waaaa!"  It is Gunnar greeting the day with his own vocabulary.
"Hi, Hunnar Bunnar Gunnar!"  says Grandma Sue, who also has her own vocabulary.
We nuzzle and nip and then he drinks a bottle of Jenny's personal expresso (you figure it out) and is totally happy.  Gunnar smiles upon eye to eye contact.  He also croons while he drinks, not unlike Bing Crosby.
"Mommy!  Mommy!"  Now Addie is also ready for the day, and I see her peeking around the corner.
"Hi, Honey Pumpkin Pie.  It's so good to see you again!"  We hold and hug and then she asks, "Where is Mommy?"
"Mommy is working in the Big City for a little while this morning and will be home for lunch very soon.  Gamma gets to hold you and make you breakfast."
"Gamma wanna play wif me?"
"Oh, yes, Grandma wants to play with you.  Let's go potty and eat scrambled eggs first."
After time with the playdough, the puzzles, and the crayons, I suggest we watch a favorite movie,  maybe one starring Dora or Maisy Mouse.  Addie runs to make her video selection and then pops it into the VCR.  She presses the right buttons and says, "Gamma watch a moobie wif me?"
Gunnar, who is on my lap, smiles and stands and sits, then sits and stands, takes my glasses, pulls my nose, and slobbers all over me.  He gets tired and I can tell he's ready for his morning nap.  When he's almost sleeping in my arms, Addie says, "Gamma wanna dance?"  Before I can respond, she runs to Jenny's stereo equipment and in less than two baby seconds there is country music rattling the rafters and scaring the living daylights out of me and Gunnar whose screams rival the electric guitars.
A bit frightened by the look on Grandma's face, not to mention the monster decibels, Addie runs to another corner of the house and leaves me to figure out how to shut off the blaring stereo.  I end up pulling plugs on every-thing until all is quiet on the southern front.  Oofda.  My ears are ringing.
Gunnar won't sleep now, having been jolted by the high voltage airwaves, nor will he let me put him down.  My arms are losing their strength and I'm sweating all over the place, and then I remember Baby Bjorn.
Baby Bjorn is a new-fangled contraption that you strap onto yourself and stick the baby inside so he thinks he's being held by you, but your arms are free.  I sit on the floor with the kids and the Baby Bjorn, flinging straps here and there, buckling left and right, and finally I decide that if I ever get the thing on me, I may never get it off again.  So I toss it aside and put Gunnar in the baby swing … on turn it on high.  I am reminded of that song about the daring young man on the flying trapeze who floats through the air with the greatest of ease.  Gunnar falls asleep.
Addie and I play with blocks and then find another movie.  Everything's cool … until the electricity goes out.  It's true.  The VCR shuts down along with the lights.  "Gamma where's my moobie?"
I try to recall the old days before moobies, I mean movies, in order to come up with another activity, but those days don't exist.  I grew up with movies too and know by heart every cartoon and Walt Disney movie there ever was, and also every nursery rhyme and riddle.  Hey, that's it!  "Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall … Mary had a little lamb ... Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep …" 
I say them all, in their entirety, energized by my excellent recall.  Addie looks at me like I just came in from the barn, but I continue.
"Little Jack Horner sat in the corner … Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle … Jack Spratt could eat no fat … Little Tommy Tucker sings for his supper …"
Then I hear the garage door go up.  Jenny is home in the nick of time.  It was 3 hours and 25 minutes since I watched her drive down the road in the morning sun.  Yes, I was counting.  When she walks in, everything appears normal. 
                                          ~Sue